


The Devil's Backbone

by HallowQueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Time Turner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowQueen/pseuds/HallowQueen
Summary: When Hermione touches the time-turner for the first time in third year, she wakes up in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries in 1973. Now with a new life in the Marauders era, and only barely-remembered dreamlike memories of her past, the witch who was once Hermione Granger starts changing things without even trying.





	1. The First Time Inside

Hermione Granger loved being a witch. She loved the magical world she found herself in, like Alice Through the Looking Glass. She wanted to know  _ everything _ about it, which was exactly why she found herself in Headmaster Dumbledore’s richly appointed office in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had, perhaps foolishly, signed up for every elective class the school offered, from Ancient Runes to Muggle Studies. 

“Miss Granger, you are sure you wish to take _ allI _ of the classes?” Headmaster Dumbledore repeated. “You are muggleborn, surely Muggle Studies is unnecessary…?”

“Oh, but the chance to see the muggle world from the wizarding perspective is so  _ unique _ !” Hermione enthused without guile. “It might even give me some ideas on how to help eliminate blood prejudice in the future, Headmaster!” 

Albus Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes sparkling behind his half-moon glasses. “Then, Miss Granger, this is for you.” He held out a necklace to her, it was gold, and made of several rotating disks, with some kind of glass in the center. Curious, she reached out to touch it.

And everything exploded.

* * *

Hermione woke up with a headache and coughing as if she was about to vomit. Shaking her head to clear her bleary vision, she found herself in some sort of cell. There was no preternatural cold, or feeling of dread,  so she knew it couldn’t Azkaban, the prison she had been reading about since the escape of Sirius Black, but she still didn’t know where she was. 

“Hello?” She tried, her voice slightly hoarse. “Is anyone there? I don’t know where I am.”

“The devil’s backbone of the wizarding world, girlie.” A gritty voice said from the other side of the right wall. “Welcome to the black cells.”

“But...but I haven’t  _ done _ anything.” Hermione said, her voice approaching panic. “I was just in Professor Dumbledore’s office, and then…” She staggered to her feet. “How...what...why?”

“A likely story.” A different wizard said, holding up the golden necklace that Dumbledore had tried to give her, staring at her from the other side of the bars. “And just what were you doing with this?”

“Professor Dumbledore gave it to me.” Hermione defended, instantly. “He called me to his office to talk about my class schedule, and he said it was for me, and when I took it, I ended up here. I don’t even know what it is!”

The wizard rattled the bars, leaning over towards her in his dark red robes. “Ridiculous! You’re telling me you ended up  _ here _ setting off every alarm in the place and you don’t even know what it  _ is _ ?” He reached into his robes and drew out a crystal vial. “Well, we’ll find out the  _ truth _ soon enough.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Hermione wailed. 

Before the wizard could respond, a witch appeared on the stairs behind him, running down the stairs, with a wizard behind her. “Harwin!” She shouted, blonde hair flying behind her. “What,  _ by Circe _ , do you think you are  _ doing!” _

“Hallow.” The wizard growled. “Interrogation on illegal temporal abuse.” He turned on her. “What are  _ you _ doing?”

“Stopping you from showing just how  _ big _ of an idiot you are.” The witch snarled. “Look at what you’re holding in your hand. It’s not a true time turner. It couldn’t go back more than five hours.”

“So?” The wizard challenged. “It’s still illegal.” 

“Not if she got permission in her time!” The witch shot back. She waved her wand and the bars disappeared. “Hermione, love, why did you have the time-turner?”

Hermione didn’t know how the witch knew her name, but she was glad  _ someone  _ was defending her from the overly large and aggressive wizard. “Professor Dumbledore gave it to me.” She explained. “I’m about to start third year, and I wanted to take  _ all _ the classes, because they all sounded so  _ fascinating _ , I didn’t want to miss anything. He didn’t even explain what it was, he held it out to me and when I touched it…”

The thin wizard, who had come down the stairs with the witch, snorted. “She’s just like you, Demona.”

The witch scoffed, and held out her hand to Hermione. “Come here, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Hermione let out a breath of relief, and stepped toward the witch, giving the now red-faced wizard a wide berth. 

“Now see here, Hallow!” The man began to bellow. “You don’t know she’s telling the truth! Her story makes no sense!”

The witch, Hallow, apparently, rolled her eyes. “It does if you can add two and two, Harwin. Tell me, what happens to a temporally displaced person, when they encounter a concentration of time energy, like that within a time turner?”

“What child wants to take every class?” Harwin demanded. “It’s more likely just a ruse to get her hands on a turner!”   


“Have you  _ met _ any of your co-workers, Harwin?” The thin wizard drawled. “Every unspeakable in my cell took ten N.E.W.Ts, and most of us took them  _ all _ .”

“Hermione was conceived over Christmas 1958.” Hallow explained. “But she was born on September 19, 1979. Her magic knew she was temporally displaced, so when she touched the time-turner, it snapped her like a muggle gum-band into where she would be in her natural timeline, were she not displaced.”

“And how do you know  _ that _ ?” Harwin snarled. 

“Because twelve hours of labour is hard to forget, you entitled mouth-breathing salamander!” Hallow exploded at him. 

“My parents are muggles.” Hermione whispered, freezing. “I’m muggleborn.”

Hallow turned back to the girl, slowly. “No, sweetheart.” She breathed, softly. “Helen and Richard...they’ve been your parents, and they are muggles, but Richard is the grandson of a squib. I…” She swallowed. “I didn’t realise I was pregnant, and I was on assignment when I discovered it, but by the time I did, it was too dangerous for me to travel back here, so the Ministry had me stay there. After you were born...you were too young for time-travel, Hermione, and the Ministry wouldn’t give me leave to stay, they said my displacement for long enough to let you come with me would have too much effect on the timeline. They ordered me to give you up.” She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “I couldn’t just...throw you into the muggle world, so I found Great-Uncle Iago’s family, and watched them, to make sure they would care for you, that they would love you...and I altered their memories to make you their daughter.”

Hermione wanted to be angry, remembering every slur or dirty look she had gotten for being muggleborn, every condescending word for not understanding some unwritten rule in wizarding culture. She  _ wanted _ to be angry, but the witch looked as though she was still tortured by the decision. She hadn’t  _ wanted _ to give up Hermione, and unlike Professor Dumbledore, who had abandoned Harry to uncaring relatives, the witch had given her a good home and loving parents. 

“What’s your name?” Hermione asked, finally. 

“Desdemona.” The witch said softly. “Desdemona Hallow, but before I was married it was Desdemona Dagworth-Granger.”

Hermione swallowed hard. “And my father?”

“Nikomedes Hallow.” Desdemona answered with a smile. “He’s an Unspeakable as well, though he’s in the field at the moment. He’ll dote on you. He was infuriated when he found out about you and what the Ministry decided. He’s gotten you cards and presents for every birthday and Christmas since.”

“She has no clearance to leave the cells!” Harwin shouted. “Accident or not, she still has knowledge of the future! The possible damage to the timeline is incalculable, especially if she gets it in her head to change the future!”

“There are ways around that, Samson.” The thin wizard replied. “If we were to place her back in the time she started in, she could easily find herself here again.”

“Obliviation of a minor could cause serious memory problems for the rest of her life and adversely affect her magic.” Harwin pointed out. “Better to put her back into her own timeline and swear her to secrecy.”

“There is another way.” The thin wizard pointed out. “She’d have memories, but they would be as dreams. There could then be webs cast, that others would remember as it should have been, using the existing memories as a skeleton to build upon.”

“It’s her choice.” Desdemona said, quite suddenly. “The Ministry made the choice for her before, she can choose this time.”

“Demona, she’s a minor, in all technicalities, you get the choice.” The thin wizard pointed out. 

“I know, Quil.” Desdemona replied, with a smile at Hermione. “But no matter how badly I want her to stay, she has her own mind. She can choose.”

Hermione stared at the witch, before glancing at the wizards. “I...could I go back and contact you in the future?” She asked, biting her lip. “I could owl you, couldn’t I?”

Desdemona shook her head. “The Ministry wouldn’t allow it. If you go back, you won’t remember this, and Niko and I are forbidden from contacting you.”

“They shouldn’t be able to do that!” Hermione snarled. “I’ve been called mudblood for two years, teased for not knowing things...I was petrified by a basilisk last year for being a muggleborn. They shouldn’t have made you do it.”

Desdemona could only give her a sad smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

Hermione took a deep breath and set her shoulders. “I’ve made my decision.”

* * *

Cressida Hallow woke with a yawn and a blink. Her squashed-faced orange half-kneazle kitten was dancing on her kidneys and she laughed as she pulled him up to her chest and snuggled him mercilessly. “Good morning, Crookshanks.”

“Mrawr.” Crookshanks replied. 

A knock on the door followed. “Honey, are you awake?”

“Yes, Mum!” Cressida answered, stretching as she got out of bed, with an extra scritch behind the ears for Crookshanks. She pulled out her favourite light blue robes and practically skipped over to her mother’s room. The door was open so she slid inside excitedly, handing her mother the brush. 

Desdemona chuckled as she sat Cressida down at her dressing table, and began to brush her hair, working charms through it to control the frizz. “Did you sleep well, darling?”

“Yes, I had the most amazing dream!” Cressida replied. “Ron, Harry and I were on a mission to save the Philosopher’s stone, and there were  _ giant chess pieces _ . We had to play across the board.” 

“I hope they weren’t relying on your chess ability.” Desdemona chuckles, as she worked beads into her daughter’s hair. “Your father despairs your lack of chess ability.”

“No, Ron did it.” Cressida reassured her. “I can’t really remember much else. We thought someone was after the stone, but it turned out it was someone else.”

“Well, it’s rarely the first person you expect.” Desdemona echoed. “Are you excited to go to Hogsmeade today with Auntie Dervish?”

Hermione nodded, accidentally pulling on her hair and wincing. “Yep. It’s the first time people my age will be in Hogsmeade. Auntie Dervish says I can go and make friends after I help open the shop.” Auntie Dervish wasn’t  _ actually _ her aunt, but she was a member of the coven Cressida had been raised in and was still being educated by, so everyone was treated as family. It made things get a little strange sounding sometimes, but it was tradition. Cressida didn’t mind. She liked having multiple uncles and aunts and more grandparents than biologically possible. 

“Before you head off with Auntie Dervish, stop and see Grandmother Prince, she has a favour to ask of you.” Finished with Cressida’s hair, Desdemona stepped back, checking the curls that floated about her head. “You look nice, Cress.”

“Thank you, Mum.” Cressida replied with a smile, touching one of the silver beads strung through her hair. It was brighter than normal silver and gleamed as her fingers ran over the runes.

Cressida reached into her pocket and handed over a small purse. “While you’re in Hogsmeade, stop in Honeydukes for me and grab some fizzing whizbees for your father.”

“Is Dad still due back tonight?” Cressida asked. 

“Barring any complications, so don’t fill up on sweets.” Desdemona warned. “And have a good day.”


	2. The Second Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cressida gets a mission from Drusilla Prince and makes a friend. Albus tries to get Hermione back and do damage control.

The Greater Slough Covenstead was a large home, one that had started out as a hall house, then had been expanded on and added to by generations. It was a home, but one that was flexible, because no-one lived there full time, as everyone had their own homes. All members of the coven and their families had their own rooms, but the house shuffled them about depending who was there at the time. Benjy Fenwick’s room, for example, had been moved to an unused hallway when he headed off to Hogwarts. It was fun, especially when children played hide and seek, but now it took Cressida Hallow a few extra minutes to find her way to Drusilla Prince’s rooms.

Drusilla Prince was one of Cressida’s favourite people. While she didn’t cuddle Cressida like Carlotta Fenwick or give her candy like Phaedra Fawley, she was kind...underneath her stern manner. Drusilla had taught Cressida maths and astronomy when she was young, and was now handling her arithmancy tutoring, as well as Edmund Fawley’s arithmancy N.E.W.T studies. The Italian witch was amazingly smart, and didn’t try and slow her down to a ‘normal learning pace,’ like some of her tutors -- and while she didn’t give candy, if Cressida could solve the arithmancy puzzles on her cabinet, she could always have an amaretti biscuit, and then Drusilla rewarded her by making the puzzle even harder. It was her favourite game.

She curtsied slightly as the elf opened the door for her, and she entered into Drusilla’s domain. “Grandmother Prince,” she said formally, with all the respect due an older witch. “Mother said you wanted to see me.”

“Ah, Cressida, good.” Drusilla Prince said, rising from the settee where she was reading. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Of course!” Cressida said excitedly. At fourteen she barely ever got to help beyond basic chores or exacting potion ingredient preparation under her mother’s harsh standards. “What do you need?”

“Come, sit.” Drusilla said with a gesture toward a chair. “You recall my grandson, Severus, don’t you, Cressida?”

“Of a sort,” Cressida admitted. “I’ve never gotten to meet him.” It was one of the tragedies of the coven that everyone whispered about. Drusilla’s daughter Eileen had fallen in love with a muggle and given up her magic. Such matches had worked in the past, but Eileen’s husband had isolated her from her family. Drusilla had begged Eileen to return when she discovered that her husband was abusive, but Eileen had refused, swearing that Tobias hadn’t meant it, that he was sorry and he loved her. If Tobias had been a wizard, Drusilla could have blocked him from the Prince vaults and laid rules in the betrothal papers that would have protected Eileen and any children, but as he was a muggle, the Ministry could enforce nothing and all Drusilla could then do was formally disown Eileen to prevent her husband from “drinking the entirety of the Prince vaults,” as Uncle Fenwick liked to say. He still had hopes that Eileen would leave the ‘shifty bugger,’ and come home.

“I’ve only seen him from a distance as well.” Drusilla admitted. “Today will be his first Hogsmeade visit from the school. I was hoping you would take him a package from me.”

“Of course!” Cressida said excitedly. “Do...do you think he’ll want to be my friend?”

“I can’t say, Cressida.” Drusilla admitted. “He may want nothing to do with any of us, depending on what his parents have said.

“Oh.” Cressida said, a bit sadly. “But he might?”

“You can certainly try.” Drusilla agreed. “I would love to have a relationship with him, even if his mother won’t speak to me.”

Impulsively, Cressida hugged Drusilla. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

* * *

 Albus Dumbledore stared at the place where a moment ago Hermione Granger had stood. He hadn’t seen anything like it before, but felt as though there was something he was missing, some obvious piece of knowledge he was missing, just at the edges of what he knew.

He had to do _something_. He couldn’t just let a student disappear, and Harry would need Hermione Granger. Without her logic and intelligence Harry would have never made it through the challenges these past two years. His marks and his attitude had suffered last year, when Miss Granger was petrified. She was a grounding influence that Harry would need in the coming years, especially when Voldemort rose again. Not knowing what had caused it, he could only send an urgent owl to the Department of Mysteries. Time-Turners were their purview, after all.

The visit from Unspeakable Torquil Galloglass didn’t provide any answers or the reappearance of Hermione Granger.

“Unfortunately, Headmaster, you will likely not be seeing the return of Hermione Granger.” He said, apologetically. “From what you describe, it was unintentional, uncontrolled, temporal magic.”

“Is she in the black cells?” Albus asked, narrowing his eyes at the wizard, shedding the usual cheerful mien.

Torquil frowned. “I can neither confirm or deny the existence of any cells, or any person or persons who may or may not be within any cells, either within the Ministry or outside of it.”

“She is a child!” Dumbledore said firmly.

“I understand your position, Headmaster, but it is not within my power to return the girl to you.” Torquil said firmly. “The Ministry will, of course, handle all issues with the parents. The school is not at fault. I’m afraid that is all I can give you.”

* * *

 Dervish and Banges was half magical repair shop and half magical junk shop. Belinda Dervish was a clever witch who excelled in metalcharming and magical object repair. Her partner, Laurasia Banges was more of a magical collector who secreted away bits and bobs until the right witch or wizard came for them. It was a fascinating place, and usually Cressida would be happy to while away the hours cleaning, organising, and rearranging. She always made a few good discoveries in the shop. Usually, however, wasn’t the first Hogsmeade weekend. It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends, there were four others in the coven who were home-schooled, and she got to interact with them, but they were all different ages, so it wasn’t quite the same thing as having friends her age.

“Go, go on.” Belinda said, snapping her dragonhide apron at Cressida. “You’re of no use today. Go have fun.”

“Thank you, Auntie Dervish!” Cressida was out the door before the last word was out of her mouth.

Cressida was not in awe of Hogsmeade, and so she set her mind to her task for the day, checking of her mental to-do list. The most important thing was delivering Grandmother Prince’s package. There were students all over the high street, running between The Three Broomsticks and Zonko’s and Honeydukes with excitement. The problem was going to be finding one particular student who had no idea she was looking for him.

She popped in the three busiest stores with no luck, and was just about to give up, when she spotted someone she thought _might_ be him, coming out of Tomes and Scrolls. She was as sure as she could be, when she only had a memory a few years old from a distance to go on. “Severus!” She called, trying not to shout, but still get his attention as he ran up to him.  Sure enough, the boy paused and turned.

“Severus, right?” Cressida said with a smile at the boy, who had Drusilla’s Roman nose. “Please say yes.”

Severus Snape was instantly suspicious. He didn’t recognise the strange girl, and no one ever went looking for _him_. He slid his hand to the pocket of his robes, where his wand was kept, just in case. “Who wants to know?”

Cressida beamed at him. “I’m Cressida,” She said, holding out her hand to him.

Severus stared at her hand as if it was covered in bubotuber pus. “You don’t go to Hogwarts. How do you know me?”

Cressida’s smile flagged slightly and she dropped her hand, but she took a deep breath and buoyed herself right back up. “No, I’m homeschooled by my parents’ coven.” She admitted. “Your...your grandmother asked me to bring you this.” She reached into her robes and pulled out the package Drusilla had entrusted her to deliver.

Severus had only heard briefly about his mother’s family, and stared at the girl again, her story all the more unbelievable than it had been before she had explained what she wanted.

“How much did _Potter_ pay you?” He asked, snarling. “It's some hex or trick, obviously.”

Cressida was startled by the sudden hostility in his expression. “I’m being honest, Severus. Your grandmother…”

“Drusilla Prince disowned my mother for marrying a muggle.” Severus snorted, having become all-too accustomed to how much lesser his parentage and bad robes made him.

“No!” Cressida disagreed. “She disowned your mother after your father _hit_ her. She tried to convince her to come home, but she wouldn’t leave him. The Ministry wouldn’t act against a muggle, and there were no bonds to keep him from hurting her. All Drusilla could do was cut off the money.”

Severus didn’t know how to react to that, tilting his head so that his hair fell across his face for a moment. No one in the wizarding world knew about his father except for Lily. Could it be true? It certainly sounded like his parents. He had begged his mother to leave before, and she had refused, but good things like this, a grandmother who wanted to give him gifts didn’t happen to him. “So what’s in this for you, if it’s true?”

Cressida bit her lip, looking down. “Well...I was _hoping_ you would...I mean...that you would _want_ to...be my friend, but you don’t...I mean you don’t have to, if you don’t want too.”

There came the suspicion again. No one ever wanted to be _his_ friend. Lily was, but even she got frustrated with him. They were originally supposed to explore Hogsmeade together, but then Alice and Marlene had invited her, and she had gone off with a ‘you really don’t mind, do you Sev?’ “Why?”

Cressida could only shrug. “I don’t have any my age.”

“I’m a Slytherin.” He pointed out to her. “No one wants to be friends with Slytherins. They think we’re evil.”

“That’s just _stupid_.” Cressida spat in return. “Some magical hat instantly knows who is going to be evil at eleven? If that were true, Merlin would be considered evil!”

Severus laughed. It wasn’t a real laugh, more like a dry chuckle, but it was as close as he could remember getting in years. “All right then.” He would keep an eye on her, just in case, but it’d be nice to have someone he didn’t have to share.

* * *

 Albus didn’t want to call an official staff meeting to discuss the disappearance of Hermione Granger unless he had to, because such things would have to go into the school archive. Instead, he summoned everyone into the staff room. It was highly unusual for the first night of term, and the teachers who had been there longest were blinking and yawning as they arranged themselves.

“I have news.” Albus said softly, sadly. “It is about Miss Granger.”

Minerva, startled, looked up. “What happened, Albus?”

“I had arranged for her to use a time-turner to attend multiple classes…”

“Albus, at thirteen?!” Pomona Sprout protested.

“She’s always been a mature young girl, Pomona.” Minerva defended, instantly.

“Yes, well, the Ministry approved the time-turner, and I called her to my office after the feast to discuss it with her, but when she touched the time-turner, she disappeared.” Albus finished.

“ _Disappeared?!_ ” Minerva shouted. “How can she have _disappeared_?”

“Conceived in one time period, born in another.”A voice said, and everyone turned to look. There, sitting in a plump chair, in a dark corner by the fireplace, stood a brown-eyed, brunette witch with silver beads in her hair. “Placed with descendants of squibs. The time-turner vaulted her back to her proper time.”

“Madam Snape?” Albus asked, with narrowed eyes at the Unspeakable he had...somehow... _forgotten_ lived in his very school. How very unlike him. It was almost as if...something had changed.

“They’ll give her the choice to come back, but as she’s not here, I’d assume she chose to stay in her original time period.” The witch said, shaking her head. “She’ll be fine, whenever she is.”


	3. Mudslinging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogsmeade adventures and Marauder meetings.

Severus was not at all sure how to handle Cressida Hallow. The cool, formal reception of his fellow Slytherins, the slurs from his father, the desperate, quick pats and glances from his mother, the scared whispers from the muggles of Spinner’s End, even the starry-eyed hope of Lily gave him no context for how to deal with this witch.

He couldn’t teach her about the wizarding world, like Lily, she knew just as much as he did,  if not more. In fact, as they discussed magic, she dragged him back into _Tomes and Scrolls_ to pick out some obscure volume to prove her point, and Severus couldn’t decide if it annoyed him or impressed him more.  “Insufferable know-it-all,” he snapped, and for a moment, she seemed taken aback, before shrugging, and grabbing him by the hand, pulling him to the next place she decided she absolutely _had_ to show him. His snarling and snapping didn’t seem to put her off, and he eventually gave it up.

The strangest thing was that she touched him so easily. It’d been years since anyone other than Lily has touched him without some sort of ill intent. Cressida, however, pulled him along beside her, poked him lightly to make him look in another direction, bumped her shoulder against his, while biting her lip shyly. He didn’t trust it. He wanted to, but he didn’t know how.

When the Marauders cornered them, he was half-sure the other shoe was going to drop.

* * *

 Remus Lupin blinked at the witch by the fireplace. She seemed familiar, but he wasn’t at all sure where to place her for a long moment, but when he did, he gasped. “Cressida?”

“Evening, Remus.” Cressida replied with a yawn. “Glad to be back?”

“What are you _doing_ here?” Remus demanded.

Cressida shrugged. “Dumbledore’s head appeared in the fireplace, snapping to be in the staff room in five minutes. Since he didn’t say _who_ , we both showed up.”

“Do you teach?” Remus asked, starting to smile.

“No.” Severus drawled. “For some reason her applications keep getting _misplaced_.”

“Poor faculty wife, me.” Cressida sighed. “Perhaps someday, but I’m an awfully good substitute, I promise.”

* * *

 “Oi, Snivellus!” A voice yelled.

Cressida, who had been trying to convince Severus to come to Dervish and Banges with her for lunch with some of his would-have-been-aunties, saw him suddenly tense. Not knowing why, but wanting to comfort him, she bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Potter.” Severus growled, wand suddenly out.

Cressida quickly jumped to the conclusion that this was going to be a less than peaceful encounter, flicked her wrist toward her wand sheath in her sleeve, but did not draw. There was...someone...around _somewhere_ . She just couldn’t tell _where_.

Suddenly, a spell hit the ground in front of them, and mud sprayed over the front of their clothes. Cressida let out a sound of anger, and pulled her wand, but had no targets. _This_ was definitely going to be something she talked about with dad in her next defence lesson. “You okay?” She asked Severus, wiping the mud from their clothes with a spell.

“Fine.” Severus snarled, but Cressida took no offence, expecting that it was aimed at those who had done the literal mudslinging rather than at her.

“Come on,” Cressida encouraged. “Let’s go to Dervish and Banges and have lunch.”

Severus muttered something, but nodded once, and Cressida beamed at him. She was just about to lead the way, when from their left a quartet of wizards approached.

“Hey, Snivelly, you missed a spot.” one with dark hair and hazel eyes said, pulling out his wand. “Lemme help you with that.”

And that quickly, something shifted.

* * *

 “Well, that was fun,” Cressida remarked dryly,  as she and Severus returned to their chambers in the dungeons. “And now you can stop making faces at me after every Potions class with the Gryffindors.”

Severus snorted, as he changed back into his nightclothes. “I felt like a lech.”

“I’m older than you, and you hated her. So come do my hair and be glad I’ve gone to meet you in the past. What would you do without me?”

“Not be strangled by your awful hair every night?” Severus asked, taking the brush from her, and starting from the bottom, beginning to smooth and brush her hair.

“You love my hair,” Cressida argued cheekily. “And it loves you as much as the rest of me.”

Severus scoffed, but he continued with her hair anyway, brushing it out and removing the silver beads that no longer restrained her memories, but she still wore out of habit. He didn’t say anything else until they were both changed, and lying in bed in the dark, the candles long extinguished, but then he curled his arms around her and whispered, quietly, as if anyone other than Crookshanks might hear: “I’d be a miserable, lonely, old bastard,”

Cressida said nothing, but curled closer and put her head on his chest, kissing the spot above his heart. Nothing else needed to be said.

* * *

Cressida looked at the boys in front of them, knowing more than guessing that these were the ones who had sprayed them with mud. “And _you_ are?” she asked, in her haughtiest voice.

The boy who spoke was distracted by her, and offered her a smile. “I’m James Potter.” He introduced himself. “And these are my friends. If you need to escape an evil git like greasy old Snivellus…”

“I think not.” Cressida replied, unimpressed by these boys who had started out covering them in mud, and then asking if she wanted to be rescued from _Severus_ . “I’d rather spend the time with _my_ friend. And not people who think dousing me in mud is funny.” She smiled at Severus. “Come on, Severus, Auntie Dervish will wonder where we are.” Rather than grabbing his hand like she did before, she defiantly entwined her fingers with his and pulled him past the offending Marauders.


End file.
